Untitled
by TrulyWished
Summary: An old one that I'm taking a brief break to post. Schuldig and Farfarello meet. A one shot to sharpen my writing skills, it has some good imagery and a nice feel to it.


Warnings: mentions of minor violence, erotic suggestions  
Disclaimer: no owning, no money, all rights to the creator

Untitled– I have no idea, even months after it was written

The jeep bumped and jostled along, uneven pavement rough under the wide wheels. 'Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck'

"…g, ..ldig, Schuldig." A low voice, echoing against his ears before a large hand flattened against his chest, fingers spread wide from the broad palm. Long orange hair whipped to the side, dark blue eyes staring at the brunet beside him. "Get a grip." Something landed in his lap and a slender hand closed around it automatically.

"Fuck. You." His commander just tilted his head to whatever was now in his hand. Schuldig looked down and saw a little ball that squished in his palm. A few experimental squeezes and he set a rhythm, rolling it and flexing his hand around it. Probably better than the pen he'd had before Crawford took it away; at least he wouldn't stab anyone with this.

"Calm down. We're almost there." A quick peek to the side showed the older man stretching his legs a little, arms folded tidily across his chest.

A soft groan and the telepath tightened his shields even more. "Why are we here again?" Bad enough they were in a prison complex, but it was a twenty minute drive to the dangerous offenders building and he'd been on edge since they got within a mile of the place. Some of these people really made his skin crawl, which was saying quite a lot.

No response and he took another quick look over to see the dark eyes staring straight ahead. **Crawford, come on, tell me. I'm the one suffering here.**

"When you need to know, you will." The redhead snarled silently, ignoring the nervous glance from their driver. He settled in to sulk and squeeze his toy, passing it from hand to hand every few seconds.

The voices were getting stronger, pulsing against him, screaming in his mind, the urge to kill, torture, destroy growing with each breath, the visions of what had been done and would be done if ever the chance arose nearly overwhelming his shields. "Brad." A nearly inaudible warning of his increasing unease, the wavering of his control.

"You're fine. Half an hour." Crawford didn't look over, staring straight ahead, watching the light grey building approach. It looked so innocent, hard to believe some of the worst murderers of a generation were gathered inside.

The blond driver tossed nervous glances over his shoulder. "Is he alright? We can turn around."

"No, he's fine. We have an appointment and we don't want to be late." A hint of smirk tugged his lips upwards and he finally glanced over at his younger teammate. "Do we?" The redhead didn't answer, just squeezed faster and stared straight ahead.

The warden met them at the door, Schuldig slouching along, hands still occupied and energy focused on his shields, Brad standing straight and looking well down on the round man. "Right on time! They told me you were very punctual. An excellent quality in a man. If you'll come this way?" A tiny snort escaped the telepath before he caught the chilly glare from his leader and straightened up quietly. Even if he didn't see why he should behave himself to a fawning little piggy, Crawford was a relatively unknown factor. It was wise to stay mostly on his good side for the moment.

A maze of hallways and turns while the short warden babbled away and Schuldig stopped half way down one hall and turned to stare to the side. "Turn left."

The warden laughed condescendingly and waved them forward. "No, no, we're going right. The inmate you are here to see is just a few cells away." Darkening blue eyes turned to stare at the little man for a second, then the slender telepath strode forward and turned left, moving quickly towards his goal.

A guard stepped in front of him, a firm hand on his arm. Long hair swished over thin shoulders and a slight smile pushed full lips up.**Take your hand off me**. The large frame jolted at the sudden voice in his head, but he held on, eyes narrowed. Low chuckling and blood started to ease down his chin, flowing from the thick nose. Long fingers reached up, brushed the fluid away and the guard stared at it in shock before collapsing to the sound of laughter.

The laughter changed, from a soft, pleased sound to a higher pitched cackle, rising as the orange hair tilted back to brush the middle of the slim back. **Schuldig.** A mentally snapped word and the squeeze toy burst under the pressure of a clenched fist, short nails digging into callused skin.

Quiet was deafening, broken only by the heaving breaths and the shocked squeaks of the warden; the redhead went quiet, staring glassily at the wall. Slow minutes crept by before bright eyes turned to meet nearly black, slitted but controlled once again. "Yes. We go left." The warden merely nodded, mumbling about inconveniences and stepped easily around the limp body of his guard as if he didn't see it.

The brunet American tilted his head for the younger man to lead and followed the coppery hair as it bounced down the hall. This was why they came, not to see some pathetic human killer but to find something more, a partner for his young redheaded wildcard. Someone to temper that brilliant flare of vanity and to fill the need for endless attention. Someone as vicious and hardy as the redhead, someone to stand up to him and beside him.

Long strides followed the telepath as the leader thought about the sacrifices he'd made to have Schuldig; favours owed, strings pulled, literally his flesh and blood a few times. Well if that's what it took to fulfill his vision, then so be it. And now that he had that shining power under his command, he was not losing it to madness. At least no more so than he already had and certainly not until the bright redhead had served his purpose.

Wide halls were passed by without a glance, lights becoming dimmer as they moved deeper into the building, down narrow stairs into a cool basement, surrounded by stale air and sound absorbing concrete. Brad remained silent, letting the telepath lead him to their target and he finally did, almost bypassing a tiny corridor before turning on his toes and sliding into the nearly unlit passage.

Pale hands trailed up steel bars, ghostly in the faint light, the damp of condensation gathering on slender fingers and running down his arms. "There you are." Words breathed out gently, nearly worshipping the cadaverous form standing against the far wall.

For a moment, Schuldig thought the man, he was almost certain it was a man, wore a hood, covering his head as the straightjacket covered his arms and torso. As the thin body took slow steps towards him, long hair moved over the buckled shoulders, grimy, greasy, but the redhead knew it would be white as angel's wings and he wriggled against the bars eagerly. A shudder ran through his body, pressing it against the bars in a slow writhe of impatience and desire. Uneven steps approached and the redhead's pale face pressed to the metal, aching to get closer.

One eye was closed, thin scars crossing over it, but the other was open, a bit clouded from some kind of drug, but still reasonably alert. The jacket was tight, cutting into slender arms that crossed the gently rising chest. The German teen had the feeling that was the only thing gentle about him. A thin black collar cut the slender throat, giving the appearance of the pale head not quite being attached to the thin shoulders. A few more steps and the older teen noticed the reason for the short stride from such long legs; both ankles and knees were tethered together, preventing a decent pace. The ties stood out stark black against the blinding white of the loose pants and the redhead ached to untie them, to see those smooth legs stretch.

Chapped lips were full and pale, coloured only where they'd been bitten sharply to draw blood and slow, even breaths washed over them, sending warm air the redhead imagined he could feel on his skin ghosting between them. A sudden snarl and the young man bolted forward, teeth snapping. He jerked to a halt centimetres from the bars, a lead from the dark collar attached to the far wall, keeping him from quite reaching his prey.

Schuldig nearly convulsed, pushing firmly against the bars, bruising his hand as he worked it determinedly through a small square to reach out and touch the long matted hair. A protest went unheard from the warden, the fat man forgotten in his need to have, to possess. Strong teeth snapped at him but he avoided them easily to slide long fingers behind a perfect little ear. **You.** The long hair was slick under his touch, sweat and dirt sliding under his nails as he scratched faintly.

A jumble of thoughts, rage, annoyance at being denied blood, confusion at the daring touch, curiosity as to why they were there at all.**What are you?** A groan of pleasure from the redhead and he pressed against the door, body moving gracefully against the cool metal.

**I am Schuldig. You are delicious.** The rage was intoxicating, the pain that vibrated down emotional waves the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted, but more importantly, there was nothing else, all others blocked, overshadowed by this boy's mind. A pulse of power shimmered between them and the redhead moaned out loud while the blond's eye fluttered closed and he purred at the mental stimulation. **Oh yeah. You like that.**

**Yes.** Gold flared at the bright blue watching him. **Do it again**. Speaking to the voice that called rough and powerful in his mind was as easy, as natural to him as the desire to spill blood.

Without looking away, Schuldig addressed Crawford. "This one. This is the one." Another little push, stronger than before and both leaned forward, trying to melt through the bars, itching for more contact, to be closer. Deep groans had the uneasy warden shifting uncomfortably, the writhing redhead pushing his hips forward making the round man adjust his pants subtly.

Deep blue watched the short man with a knowing expression and he flushed, removing his hand awkwardly. "You have to be crazy to want to take him anywhere. He's slaughtered at least twenty priests and as many nuns. They kicked him out of St. Augustine's for God's sake!" One of the most secure asylums in the world, designed for the express purpose of containing violent psychotics. Drug 'therapy', another word for abuse, was used to control patients and rehabilitation nonexistent.

Deep chuckling, calm, sane, and the warden shivered before he could suppress it. "Not for God's sake but for their own. It is a forsaken place where sin, perversion, and blasphemy run rampant." Gold shone and Schuldig pushed forward again, trying to force his way through the bars by willpower alone. That incredible voice rolled over him, smooth and low, accented just right to push buttons in his soul.

Dark, warm thoughts, of hate, of terror, of spilled blood and pained shrieks ran over his mind and he craved it, more so than anything he'd ever tried. Even his medication from Rosenkreuz wasn't this good. "Crawford. This is the one." **This one, he comes with us, no matter what.**

"Hmm. Perhaps." Of course he knew the boy was coming with them; he'd_Seen _a team of four standing over the ruins of Esset, a scarred blond beside his redheaded telepath, just as he'd _Seen _that they would find a toy for Schuldig here. "He'll have to go for training." He simply hadn't realized Schuldig's pet and their teammate would be the same; no matter.

**Brad, we could do it. I can do it!** Long hair shifted as he pulled his gaze away reluctantly, peering over his shoulder at his leader. **What? You want to fuck me? For me to beg for him?**

**As charming as those offers are, no. He's yours as long as you can control him**. A sharp grin, brilliant and confidant flashed at him before the redhead turned back to his prize, eyes slightly glazed.

"No, I can't allow it. He's a menace, one of the worst here, and he can't be allowed to leave under any circumstances." A deep frown marred the round face and the warden crossed his arms, glaring up at the American. "You can see the inmate you came to observe then you'll have to leave."

He had time to register the glint of metal before a shot echoed in the room, the round head snapping back in a spray of blood. Droplets flew backwards against the wall, a few bursting forward when the thick body hit the floor; Crawford didn't move, letting the bright spatter slap against the floor millimetres from his foot. A tight smirk to himself; perfect.

A low chuckle from the blond and the brunet turned to watch them, Schuldig still forced up against the bars, both hands through now, some nasty scrapes bleeding lightly as he petted his new toy. "Schuldig, come away." He still had to maintain control, remain the leader.

Dark and partially sated blue eyes stared at him and there was a push at his shields. **Schuldig.** The American kept his face blank. **Now.** Long fingered hands slowly pulled away from their positions, wriggled back through the small squares and the redheaded telepath slunk over to stand in front of him. Good, a reward was in order. **I'm calling the clean up crew and you have one hour. You and your partner may kill three.**

Full lips tilted slowly into a smirk, the orange hair tossed over a slender shoulder and the telepath looked up. **Partner?** Dark hair nodded at him and the smirk widened into a grin. **Only three?**

"Give him a knife and you'll find he enjoys the kill too much to rush." Brad spoke out loud so the blond would hear him and got a high cackle for his trouble. "Go ahead, I'm calling." He turned away and walked back through the hall to the warden's office and made the call before settling in to watch on the monitors.

**Well, Jei, shall we get you loose?** A snarl and the blond slammed forward again, lead snapping loudly. **What? You want to stay tethered? That's cool, I like dogs.**

**My name is Farfarello, not, _that_.** A slim brow rose in question but Schuldig left it be for the moment; plenty of time for exploration later.

**Whatever you like. **The master key was freed from the corpse's belt and the cell door opened with a grating of rusty hinges. **This is disgusting, we'll definitely get you a nicer room than this. My room is nice. Lots of blankets and pillows, a whole wall just for the television.** Light conversation, babbling to distract the blond a bit while the redhead slipped behind him and started unbuckling clasps. **And a shower, you reek**. The delicate nose wrinkled a little as he worked, fighting the stubborn knots. **Fuck, when were you last out of this thing?**

Thin shoulders rolled in a shrug. **When I was. Who do I kill?** Pulling on his bonds stopped and slender arms wrapped around his waist, long hair shifting over his shoulder.

**Whoever you want. Other then me and Crawford, of course.** Warm air brushed the blond's ear, a soft cheek pressing to his filthy hair. **Are you going to cut me when I let you go?** Long legs tangled with the priest killer's, a hard groin pressed to his ass and wriggled, delicate hands sneaking along the edges of the straight jacket to touch his skin.

**Maybe.** Laughter, light and breathy against his skin. **Would it matter?**

A tight squeeze and the redhead went back to picking laces apart. **Not really. But I don't like scars, my face is my meal ticket you know.** A snort from the bound man. **Brad and I are assassins from Esset. You're going to come with us, get some basic training, and be part of our team.** An annoyed huff and a small ankle knife was drawn to slice through the ties. **As you can tell, I'm a telepath and Brad can see the future.** The final strap came free and the older teen stepped back. **There we go.**

A blur of white and a hard hand gripped his throat; blue stared calmly into the gold eye. "Yes?" One lean leg slipped between the grey clad ones, pressing at the ties and rubbing the thigh against the blond's groin.

"What do you want from me?" Scars stood out starkly against the pale skin, tight and white.

Schuldig started to grin, then to laugh. "What do I want from you? Come with me, kill with me, be my new partner." Bloodlust swirled in the blond's mind, but there was a layer of calm, of cunning over it; he wouldn't kill him today. "Let me go and we'll hunt."

The knife was grabbed and ran over white skin, splitting it neatly. "This is shit. Who taught you how to sharpen knives?" The tight grip on the pale throat was released and the younger man wandered off, muttering to himself about looking after your equipment. Buying time to think; it was a good offer, better than staying here or being locked up. And this Schuldig and Brad Crawford were as vicious as he was, if not more so. There would be plenty of blood to spill.

A careless laugh and the redhead swung an arm over skinny shoulders. "You can handle all my weapons from now on. Come on, time's a wastin'." He slid a hand down to grip the dirty one and tugged. A brief pause and a decision was made; Farfarello followed the gleeful man to find their first victim.

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Yeah, it's an old one but I was in the mood to post, so I did. Go me. If you see any errors, please say so and I can fix them. Thanks and thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it even a bit.


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